Mistletoe
by Mother Nature's Daughter
Summary: Just a little belated RHr Christmas fluff. It's the day before Christmas, and Ron and Hermione find themselves in a rather awkward position: underneath the mistletoe. Oneshot! Placed during the second year.


**Author's Note:** Yay, my first non-poem Harry Potter fic! It's set during their second year. And we'll just pretend I'm not posting this after Christmas. I do hope you all enjoy, and may the biggest thanks ever go out to **RHrWillLizKataangPrincess2010 **for beta-reading this, and giving me some advice! Love you loads, my friend!

**Disclaimer and all that junk: **—enter here—

**And now one more word from your author…** So, if anyone feels like the urge to dish out some CC and give comments, that would totally be okay. You know. If you want. ;)

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"Mistletoe"

"_It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas,_" Hermione Granger sang happily to herself, as she waved her wand around the Gryffindor common room like a conductor; but she was not actually conducting anything: rather, with every wave her wand, another Christmas decoration would appear. "_Everywhere you go…_" She had forgotten what came after that, so instead she stopped singing and broke into a lengthy hum of the tune, still making holly, ornaments, and strings of lights, appear here and there in the room.

From across the room, Fred and George Weasley were doing their own decorating: they were testing out some of their newest joke products, and the resulting gobs of goo and slime that landed on the wall were an added bonus to the initial explosion. Hermione would have normally scolded them for making such a mess, but it _was_ Christmas Eve. And besides that, everyone had gone home for the holidays anyway, and aside from themselves, Harry Potter, and the other Weasleys—Ron, Ginny, and Percy—, the Gryffindor tower was empty.

"Hey, Hermione," one of them called suddenly from across the room. She turned, no longer humming, just in time to see a large glob of blue goo shooting towards her. "Watch out!" Fred called too late, and had Hermione not had her wand raised and performed a quick spell, the slime would've been all over the front of her robes.

"Sorry," George said, though his grin didn't show the least bit of remorse. Hermione rolled her eyes and flicked her wand again; in an instant, the goo had been cleaned off the floor and walls around her. Then, humming a different carol this time, she continued with her own decorating.

"_Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh…_" Hermione didn't know any Wizard Christmas carols, but she preferred the Muggle ones anyway. "_Over the hills we go, laughing all the way…_"

"My God," a familiar teasing voice drifted into the common room, its owner hidden from view because he had not yet climbed completely through the entrance. "What in the world did Fred and George do, that you had to go as far as punishing them by singing?" By this time, the red-haired, freckle-faced boy had appeared, grinning crazily.

"If you must know, they nearly covered me in another one of their grand ideas," Hermione said, not even looking at the speaker at all. She didn't try to hide her smile, however.

"That's no reason to make anyone listen to you sing, Hermione," said the boy, grinning even wider. At this point, Hermione lowered her wand and fixed him with a mock, though stern, glare.

"Happy Christmas to you too, Ron," she said, laughing, because she was unable to keep up her angry stare anymore and smiled widely at her friend instead. Harry Potter came climbing into the common room after Ron, waving a hello to Hermione and the twins.

"Harry!" George exclaimed, putting away the Exploding Snap he'd been about to let loose. He came bounding over to him, his twin right behind him.

"Excellent," said Fred. "You're back."

"Yeah, we've been waiting for you," George said.

"We're going to kick your arse in this duel," Fred said, "because this time both of use are going at the same time—"

"So it'll be two against one," George finished, laughing at the unfairness of the play duel, especially because Harry could do nothing about it. "You ready?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

"Well, all right," the dark-haired, bespectacled boy said, shrugging; "see you later, guys." He waved good-bye to Ron and Hermione and allowed himself to be led away back out of the common room by George, who could be heard telling him that the "loser has to let the winner blast him with our new prank idea".

Fred, instead of immediately following his two companions, lagged behind a moment. He asked, "Ron, you want to come and even it up?"

Ron shook his head. "No, you go on," he said. "I'll stay here." Fred didn't even bother to ask Hermione, because the duels were technically against school rules (ergo, they could only do it in private now when they had the tower to themselves), and she frowned upon anything of the sort.

"Suit yourselves," he said, and with a small wave disappeared out of the room after Harry and his twin. He wasn't gone but a minute before Hermione had started humming again, and Ron collapsed in an armchair near the fire and got out his Wizard chess set.

"The Polyjuice Potion is almost finished," Hermione said casually a moment later, tucking her wand back into her robes and sitting down across from Ron. She, Ron, and Harry had been working on it for almost a month now.

"That's great," Ron replied, not even looking up from his chess set. Hermione would have got the impression he wasn't even listening to her, except he added, "then we can get that sleaze-bag Malfoy to admit he's Slytherin's heir."

"I hope he knows _something_, at least," Hermione said thoughtfully. She would hate for all their work to be a waste. "We can do it tomorrow, I think," she said.

Ron looked up in shock. "But that's Christmas!"

"You and Harry will be able to become Crabbe and Goyle after the feast," Hermione said, dismissing his surprise.

"Well, you sound like you've got it all planned out," Ron said, and he turned his attentions back to his game, trusting Hermione to figure out all the details. Hermione nodded, and after that a comfortable, lazy silence filled the room.

"Wanna play?" Ron asked sometime later, looking up at her hopefully from his Chess set. All talk of Polyjuice Potion was forgotten.

"Sure," she said, scooting her chair closer to him and the board; "but you know I'm not very good, Ron."

He grinned. "I know. And I think it's a brilliant thing—I'll go first, all right?"

They played for a long time, game after game, and Hermione lost each time. Finally, when they had played their last game and Hermione lost so spectacularly even Ron felt bad for her, she sat up and brushed her hair back out of her face. "For the record, I let you win," she said with dignity.

"All seventeen times?" Ron asked in disbelief, shaking his head. "Really? Because I think I'm just better at chess than you are."

Hermione gave an indignant 'humph!' and crossed her arms, turning away from him, so he couldn't see her smile. "Actually, I just _let_ you beat me at chess sixteen—"

"Seventeen."

"—_Seventeen_ times just so you could be happy on Christmas. Consider it your present from me." Finishing with an extra air of mock haughtiness, Hermione bounded over to the doorway as if she was about leave. Ron, correctly guessing she was just kidding, still got up from his chair and followed her. He stood right beside her, laughing.

"Do you want me to teach you some of my amazing skills?" he asked.

"I don't need to know your skills," Hermione retorted sharply, turning to face him so he could see the bright twinkle in her brown eyes; "because I have my own." She made a face at him, which was really rather out of character of her. It made Ron grin to see that she was so much in the Christmas spirit to act so 'immature'.

"Whatever you say, Hermione."

It was at this point that Fred, George and Harry returned from their duel; on George's suggestion, they had approached quietly so that they could arrive before Ron and Hermione knew they were there. Harry felt a small twinge of guilt at spying on his best friends, but he didn't really expect to see anything they shouldn't anyway, so he went along with the plan all too happily.

Fred was the first to peer out into the common room and see Hermione and his brother standing just a few feet away, under the entranceway to the rest of the room. George and Harry approached and peered over each of his shoulders. Struck by a sudden idea, Fred put a finger to his lips for silence and pulled his wand out from underneath his robes with a wicked grin. A flick of his wrist and instantly mistletoe appeared on the ceiling above Ron and Hermione's heads.

George's face lit up when he caught on to his twin's idea. He purposefully laughed loudly, startling both Ron and Hermione out of their conversation and entered the room, the two others coming in after them. "Why, Ron," he said, "Hermione. Do you know where you're standing?"

Ron looked from his brother to his surroundings. A confused silence filled the room, not broken until Ron finally said, "Er…the ground?"

"Nope!" Fred said, and then, leaning forward as if telling a great secret, added in a whisper somehow louder than his actual voice: "_look up_."

In unison, Ron and Hermione's faces turned towards the ceiling. They spotted the mistletoe at once, and both of their eyes widened to a remarkable size. A blush started creeping up Hermione's cheeks. "Oh," she said, sounding slightly breathless. She began to back away, out from underneath the mistletoe. "I—I didn't realize. Well…"

"Not so fast, Hermione," George said, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her back to stand right in front of Ron, even closer than she had been moments before. Fred mimicked him, holding fast to his brother so he didn't run away. Harry stood off to the side, not quite willing to aid Fred and George for fear of what his friends would do to him; on the other hand, he was more than happy to just stand and watch, and do nothing to stop it.

"Go on," Fred prompted, giving Ron a slight push in Hermione's direction; the younger brother, however, didn't even take a step forward. He was turning slightly pink underneath his hair.

"Come off it, guys," he said, his voice unnaturally high. "Do you really think—"

"_Kiss her_!" Fred and George shouted together; their voices were stern, but their faces were lit with joy at the others' embarrassment. This was better than any Exploding Snap.

An awkward silence followed, in which both the wizard and witch that found themselves in this impossible situation turned an unnatural shade of pink; or, as it was in Ron's case, a fire red. His face went the same shade as his hair, giving the slight impression he was steaming at the ears. Fred and George were sniggering incessantly now, and Harry's grin covered his entire face.

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably and gave Hermione an apologetic sort of smile, as if he deeply regretted what he was about to do it her. As quick as possible, he bent down and gave Hermione a soft kiss on the cheek. Hermione's eyes widened in what could have easily been excitement.

Their eyes met, and Ron blushed even more furiously; neither heard the victorious whoops from the people who'd forced them into that in the first place. Hermione's finger briefly touched the spot where his lips had rested on her cheek.

Smiling widely, she threw her arms around him in a hug, and after recovering from his surprise, Ron hugged her back. Hermione threw back her head and laughed before finding enough courage to stand on tiptoe and whisper in his ear, "_Happy Christmas, Ron_."


End file.
